


A Haunting of Two

by osmalic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osmalic/pseuds/osmalic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things that haunt us, and then there are things that haunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirasha/gifts).



They opened Severus' cartons together in the den, although it was Remus who was making all the noise as he tore off the Spell-o-tapes and peered through the contents of his lover's things.

"You have a lot of books," he mentioned, smiling at the things he found inside.

Severus was not looking at him. "What of it?"

"Nothing, really." Remus went through the stack, glancing at titles. "I find it adorable—"

"Adorable!"

"—that you have more books than you do clothes," he finished before something colourful caught his eye. "Oh, what are these?" He picked up a thick packet of paper, held together by a thick string.

Severus stopped flicking his wand at the mess Remus was making and glanced at his direction. "What are those?"

Remus looked up, grinning. "Look, Severus, photos of you! In nappies!"

"Give me those!" Severus bellowed, lunging to his direction.

With a laugh, Remus managed to catch him, fingers wrapping around the wrist that held the arm and pulling his lover into his chest. They fell on the couch in a tangled heap. The held photos scattered around them, falling on the ground, on the coffee table, on the boxes of books and clothes. "I'm glad," Remus said with his lips against Severus' ear, "that you brought these photos."

"They belonged to my family," Severus replied stiffly although he closed his eyes when Remus moved to nibble his neck. "They're not important. I shouldn't have brought them."

Remus frowned against Severus' hair, trying to interpret what his lover just said. "Of course they're important," he scoffed. "They're your memories."

"I have a lot of things I would rather forget," Severus said.

They fell silent, and Remus thought it was very unfair for Severus to say that because he had no argument for such logic. They had just survived two wars, life was still beginning for them, and they were both so new to this relationship that there were still barriers that needed to be brought down. Sometimes, their relationship felt so fragile that Remus thought it might be better to just hold Severus in his arms.

Right now, though, he said, "Photos are just memories, aren't they? Even though they smile and wave, they're just the past. They can't hurt anyone, not anymore."

Severus lay motionless with his head on Remus' chest, fingers unintentionally clutching Remus' shirt. "Right." His breath as he exhaled tickled Remus' neck. "Right."

* * *

  
It took them a month to put everything in the right place. Remus was normally scrupulous when it came to cleanliness but there was a heady delight in finally having Severus living in his house, not to mention the relief whenever he saw his lover anywhere in the house—whether it was in the loft with his potions or in the bathroom taking a piss. Sometimes, Remus felt he was too drunk on the feeling of being happy and scared at the same time, because it could all turn sour anytime.

And he had thoughts like:

What if the war had damaged them too much? What if Severus didn't like him after all? What if all they could have together was the past?

Still, all he could do was to get pieces of their existence fit each other, trying to let Severus' life blend in with his—potion fumes mingling with the scent of cooking, his books on the shame shelves, his photographs hanging on the walls, his clothes in the hamper. Putting little signs of Severus in the house made Remus think he might be thinking of possessing him. It was irrational and stupid, but it made Remus feel Severus would actually stay.


	2. Chapter 1

_"He's not yours."_

The pain had lessened to a dull and familiar throb. With his skin and bones still feeling the trauma of being stretched, broken, and knitted back together, Remus slowly returned to consciousness, feeling so grateful to find that he was alone. It was sickening, and perhaps selfish. God knew how many times his lover had voiced his disapproval, but Remus wanted to embrace the pain on his own; It had nothing to do with him. Within minutes, the loud noises of the outside faded to mere murmurs as the roaring disappeared, and he fell asleep again.

When he woke again later, the room was darker and the temperature had risen. Severus was by his side, holding a flask, his face devoid of expression. Remus smiled at him, noting that he was finally able to move his muscles. His lover ignored it and only helped him sit up. "Drink this," Severus finally said.

His voice was rough even when he spoke softly, as if he was afraid anything louder would burst Remus' eardrums. Remus took the potion without question and drank it with Severus steadying his hands as he brought the flask to his lips. "Thank you," he managed to say. "Are you alright?"

The Potion Master's mouth pinched into a thin line. "You're not the one supposed to ask that," he muttered. He ran his fingers through Remus' damp hair in concern. "Are you...do you wish for something to eat?"

"What time is it?" Remus asked, squinting at the window

"A little after noon," Severus replied, taking the flask out of his hand and setting it on the table next to the bed. "I gave you some potion to relax your muscles, the usual."

"Thank you." Remus had no strength to reach out and touch his face, so he only smiled. "I'll have lunch later. Did you..." And he hesitated. "Did I...I didn't hurt you?"

Severus gave him a look. "I've been with you for months now," he told him. "I know how to deal with a werewolf. Especially one who drinks the Wolfsbane Potion I concoct every month."

"Yes, but—"

"I know how to take care of myself," Severus interrupted. His voice was husky, as if he was unused to being gentle. "You don't have to...don't worry about anything. Just rest. I'll take care of you now."

Remus nodded, then wished he didn't. Pain shot through his head and his vision was beginning to blur. He said, "I'd like to sleep now."

"I'll come back later," Severus replied, "after I fix lunch." His palm felt cool against Remus' forehead that he thought almost frantically to grab it and not to let go, but exhaustion won over and he did not protest when Severus stood.

"Sev," he murmured just as the door opened, "what did you mean earlier?"

He heard Severus stop. "What are you talking about?"

Remus could feel his consciousness slipping but he felt it was important. "I mean...who's not mine?"

"You're delusional, Lupin," Severus said, but Remus could hear the fondness in his voice. And then he fell back to sleep.

* * *

  
A few days later, Remus had just laid his briefcase at the entrance of the house when he heard a voice, _"Why is it you?"_

Remus jerked in surprise, glancing around the living room. There were some books lying on the couch and the table, some sheets of papers on the floor. None of the subjects of the paintings and photos hanging on the wall showed any signs of being alarmed. The windows were closed against the heralding evening and the telly was off.

The voice was a small whisper, and he somehow knew he would not have heard it if it wasn't for his Werewolf hearing. He tried to recall if they had gotten an recorder, or even a phonograph but kept drawing a blank. "Severus?" he called.

"Here," came the muffled call above, possibly from the attic. Remus hurried to the potions lab, knocking on the door before Severus let him in. Purple fumes blasted on Remus' face, making him cough and frantically flail his arms before him in an effort to let the smoke dissipate. "I cannot understand how my calculations can be wrong," his lover groused, ignoring his reaction. "This should be golden by now. The bile must be over a week old, or the eye..."

Remus eyed the bubbling concoction. "I hope that's not going into our dinner, " he said apprehensively.

"Of course not. I just have to add parmesan—"

Remus kissed him on the nose. "How sweet," he teased. "You're making a joke."

"And you're eating alone, if you keep that up." Grabbing his wand from the table, Severus doused the fire and spelled the smoke away. "You're home late."

"I had some things I had to finish in the office." Remus put his arms around his lover's waist, ignoring how Severus still flinched at the touch. He was working on it, he told Remus once. "The Registry wants to work out some new project with France, and it's taking a lot of time to translate and recheck the documents before they get sent out..." He trailed off when they reached the doorway, and Remus remembered to ask, "Severus, do we have a recorder?"

Severus shook his head. "I never had one and I don't remember you telling me you had one. Do we?"

"Then, no." Making their way down the stairs and to the kitchen, Remus tried to put the strange occurrence out of his mind, but he could not help letting his eyes dart around the corners of the rooms.

"Remus?" Severus' voice cut into his thoughts and he turned to his lover who watched him with curiosity. "Is something the matter?"

Remus blinked. "No." At Severus' pointed glance, he found that his hand had somehow unconsciously begun to grip his wand. Fighting the paranoia threatening to overcome him, he said more firmly, "No, of course not." _Imagination,_ he thought, _or something from outside._

He could feel Severus' eyes carefully taking note of his actions so he forced himself to relax. "It's not the office, is it?" Severus asked guardedly.

Remus shook his head. "I'm just tired," he explained off-handedly, hoping the Potions Master would accept it. Severus stared at him for a long time before they made their way once more to the kitchen.

"I'll have to speak with the Apothecary owner again," the Potions Master said. "His control in his shop must be lax if the ingredients are not up to their usual standards."

Remus was grateful for the change of topic. "You can send an Owl," he said.

Later, when Severus returned to his workroom to fix the mess he had done, Remus checked the rooms of the house, just in case. As expected, he found nothing.

* * *

  
It shouldn't be a curse, Remus mused on his way home the next day.

Walking through the throng of people in London to clear his head, he thought of the possibilities. There shouldn't be a curse; he had checked the house before he moved in. And during that terrifying, knee-shaking time before he asked Severus to move in with him, he'd asked Kingsley to double-check for anything he might've missed. Cursed items, stray wards, potential magical hazards, and the one or two Dark Items he owned were either registered or thrown away. The auror had been kind, understanding how much trouble it might cause the authorities in case Severus agreed to live with a Werewolf.

And it wouldn't be a poltergeist or a ghost...would it? He knew there had to be at least two or three neighbours who had random hauntings now and then. Before Severus moved in, Remus had let them stay during his loneliest hours, trading stories when they were bored or if they happened to drop in for tea. Then Severus had complained that Remus didn't need to entertain their whims since he was there now. They had placed wards all over the house, though Remus knew Severus sometimes let them in to talk to them. Could a poltergeist have snuck into their house without their knowing?

Or perhaps—and what Remus was loathe to admit to himself—he was becoming very paranoid? Work had been stressful lately with the preparation for the European Werewolfe Association Conference coming up.

All Remus knew was that it was a voice: a random voice that spoke whenever, wherever inside the house. It only happened a few times, but it had not been there when Severus had not moved in. Only...could Severus actually be the reason? After all, there had already been a few months since they began living together, and the strange disembodied voice had only recently started to speak.

Yet there was no doubt the voice was speaking about Severus. _"He's not yours,_ or _"Why is it you?"_ kept echoing in Remus' head, confused and accusing. They couldn't be Remus' subconscious doubts plaguing him—the voice didn't sound at all like his, nor any of his inner mentors (those sounded either like Dumbledore, Sirius, James or Lily).

Just as he was beginning to tire of the crowd and considering Apparating, someone jostled him, then exclaimed, "Oh, wow. I can't believe this...Remus?"

"Do I know you?" Remus blurted out just as he recognized the grin. "Nymphadora?"

"You're certainly the only one who can get away with calling me that," Nymphadora Tonks—hair now the colours of a rainbow and purple eyes gleaming—teased. "Besides my mother."

"How have you been?" Remus was glad there were too many people crowding around them to rush to the subways. It was impossible to feel unease in such swarms. "How's your...uh. How's Andromeda?" Apparently not.

Nymphadora shrugged. "Going crazy over Dad's retirement. First saying he's too young to stop working, then saying he's too old to try Quidditch again. Then they have fantastic rows about which cruise to take."

"Sounds like they're having the time of their lives," Remus commented dryly.

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't believe," she agreed. "Hey, listen, let's get together sometime, okay? I just got off a surveillance, so I have to write this report." She seemed to hesitate, but then she moved closer and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "It was wonderful seeing you again."

"You, too," Remus said warmly. "Just Owl me when you're free."

"Alright." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it warmly, her face turning pink and her hair slightly becoming gold. "Remus...oh, I have to say I'm getting married. He's wonderful."

"Ah," Remus said dumbly.

Nymphadora squeezed his hand again, then she was lost in the throng of people.

Remus blinked after her, knowing she had already Apparated away. It was curious, but he was almost sad, thinking about the girl he once dated getting married, them talking about her dad's retirement, and then talking about getting together. But there was also a heavy feeling lifting from his chest. He took a deep breath. It was easy.

Their differences had become more obvious during the war. Once Harry had declared Voldemort dead, they both confessed that it wasn't working and simply let go. Nevertheless, it was difficult to think of her, even though he was happy with Severus.

 _So, this is what it feels to be "guilt-free",_ he thought, smiling.

He took out his wand and Apparated home.

* * *

  
There was no voice waiting to greet him, only Severus sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in his hands. The greeting Remus was about to say was cut short, his eyes automatically seeing the letters on the table by Severus' elbow, but his lover quickly looked up and moved to collect them.

"You're home late," Severus said, hands moving quickly to place the parchments in his pockets and turning to the curry that was stewing on the stove. "Did you go for a walk again?"

"It looked like a nice day, so I thought I'd walk part of the way," Remus said, and it wasn't a lie. "Severus?"

Severus' form stiffened, but Remus waited until his lover finally looked up to meet his eyes. "They want me back," he explained. Remus waited because it was clear Severus wasn't finished. _"She_ does, anyway. She says...I've had enough time."

"Oh, Severus," Remus murmured, wishing he could hold him.

But Severus would never allow him; instead, he crossed his arms and looked away, his expression angry. "There's no such thing as 'time enough'," he said harshly, eyes becoming distant. "It's been following everything I do, haunting me in every single corner—" He paused, unused to saying such things but Remus found himself being both grateful and terrified with the reaction. "I can't teach anymore, Remus," Severus went on angrily. "Never."

"She meant well," Remus said, taking a few steps forward, watching his lover closely.

"I'm sure she did," Severus replied dryly, his hand in the pocket of his trousers where part of the parchment peeked out. His expression slowly returned to normal. "I have known her for such a long time, yet now it makes me wonder if she really _does_ turn this kind when racked with guilt." He stopped abruptly, as if surprised with all that he just revealed.

Remus simply took his hand. "You should know the answer to that, Severus," he said, although it still made him sad to realise that his lover still questioned their friends' motives simply because of lack of trust. He saw how Severus' fingers still felt the parchment wonderingly and he let himself ask further: "Will you accept it?"

A small frown formed on Severus' face but he shook his head. "I have my consignments," he replied, "and I have enough time to do all the research I've always wanted. And all without those meddling children."

Remus thought it might be otherwise, but the way Severus was finally relaxing made him swallow the words. He hoped Severus would not regret this decision. "You have time," he told him, and giving in to temptation, he kissed Severus' cheek. "There's still weeks before you make a decision, and you still have some work to do."

Nodding, Severus turned to the stove. "I don't believe there is anything to think about—"

And then something _swished._

It was at the corner of Remus' eyes but the sudden movement made him jump back and withdraw his wand to the direction of...where? Somewhere at the right, but there was nothing there—only the dinner table, the counter, and Severus who had also withdrawn his wand and was pointing it at whatever direction Remus was aiming at.

"What the _bloody hell_ are you doing?!" Severus demanded raspily.

Remus' eyes continued to dart around the room, his grip on his wand tightening. "I saw something! I can't be sure, but it moved—"

 _"Where?"_

"It was there, and it moved, but I don't know..." The entryway from the hall to the kitchen had been at Remus' left, so there was no way the thing had come from there. There were windows around their spacey kitchen, however, so could it have come from outside...? In a flash, Remus was against the wall, looking intently out of the window without opening them. "Is it outside?"

"What is outside?" Severus was next to him, his wand covering Remus' back. "Are you sure there's something? What did it look like?"

Remus paused, needing to think. "Uh..." He looked down at Severus, whose side was pressed at his arm, his expression fierce in a way that had almost already disappeared since a year ago... He shook his head and forced himself to relax a bit. "I can't be too sure."

"Goddammit, Remus," Severus spat, "and you used to call yourself a DADA instructor. Here, I'll open the window and do a scanning spell on three." And before Remus could even count to one, Severus had already pushed the window open and muttered, _"Profero!"_ with a clean sweep of his arm throughout the yard. It was a very minor spell, not Dark and only used in limited range, but with Severus' satisfied look, it was enough.

"I thought I saw something," Remus offered, only to have Severus grab his shirt and pull him closer.

"Don't you _ever_ surprise me like that again," Severus hissed.

For a moment, Remus was confused by the gleam in his lover's eyes, until he realised they actually held real fear. His hands tentatively touched the fingers wrapped around his shirt, flinching when they both realised that Remus was still holding his wand.

"I'm sorry," Remus fumbled over and over, until Severus silenced him with a kiss, harsh and punishing.

The rush of fear and excitement boiled over Remus' body and, with a small protest, pressed Severus quickly until the cloudy haze over his mind lifted enough to see that his lover was spread over the kitchen table, rumpled trousers and shirt now open before him.

His fingers brushed against Severus' jaw, down to the collarbone, over his heart that continued to beat erratically. It matched Remus' still unsteady heartbeat. Quickly, Severus wrapped his legs around Remus' waist, urging him closer. Their gazes met and held each other for a moment, Remus searching for approval.

"Severus," he uttered.

Severus grabbed his shoulders, pulling him nearer. "Remus," he replied, voice rough.

Remus' hands slammed at both sides of Severus' head as he leaned fown for another kiss. He gasped when their erections met and strained through their clothes until, there, Severus moved his neck just _so,_ making it look so strong and weak at the same time. There was nothing to do but to latch on, moving quickly, tempering Severus' small pants with his teeth, thursting against each other until orgasm finally made them tumble through nonsense words and tightened grasps until there was silence.

Remus laughed later and smilingly said, "I'll have to scare you more often."

"Don't," Severus replied flatly, the wildness in his eyes fading. His touch betrayed his concern, however, and his fingers—rough against Remus' cheek—traced his cheeks. "Don't do that. Don't test this."

Kissing the edges of Severus' mouth, Remus sighed. "I won't," he promised softly, noting how the press of his lover's legs against his waist loosened at the words. He touched Severus' heart, needing to feel the heartbeat slowing. He took a deep breath and pulled away.

* * *

  
Later, while engulfed in darkness, Remus awoke feeling a chill in the room. Beside him, he could hear Severus' soft breathing, could still feel the warmth of his skin close to him.

But he heard a soft voice whisper: _"You can't protect him."_

 _"Lumos,"_ Remus said quickly, and all the lamps in the room ignited.

No one was there.


	3. Chapter 2

"I need advice."

Usually, Remus was polite enough to make small-talk before getting right into business so he wasn't surprised to see the puzzled look on Nymphadora's face. "You look awful, Remus," she told him frankly. "You looked fine when we saw each other yesterday."

Remus shrugged. "A lot happened since then." He had asked her to meet him in the pub for lunch today, a sudden request that he had no doubt she would refuse. She surprised him by agreeing, so they met at an old pub that Aurors frequent. Watching her nurse the glass of butterbeer in her hand, he thought she looked crisp and professional for a casual lunch meeting. "You're not drinking?"

"I'm on duty later," Nymphadora told him, and added incredulously: "Are you?"

"I need it." When the pint was delivered to their table, Remus took a gulp to calm his nerves, then said, "It's business. And a bit personal."

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "Remus, I have less than an hour before my shift. Get on with it."

"I hear voices." At the woman's blank look, Remus put in, "Well. Just one voice, actually. Something strange is happening in my house."

"You've moved in with Snape, right?"

There was no hiding the doubt in Nymphadora's voice, and Remus was bothered enough to snap back, "Yes, I did. What of it?" Then, feeling remorse at the way his friend lowered her eyes in apology, he mumbled, "I'm sorry. I'm getting a bit frustrated about...something. It's got nothing to do with Severus. I'm hoping, at least." He took a deep breath, finding it ridiculous that he was having a hard time explaining a possible haunting to an Auror. "Over the past few weeks, I've been hearing voices and seeing things that aren't there. Nothing substantial, and the voice feels like it's only speaking to me, but the gist is always the same."

"What's it saying?" Nymphadora asked. Her eyes had brightened into green, then blue, as they did when she was excited.

Remus hesitated again, then blurted out, "That I shouldn't be with Severus."

There was a thud as Nymphadora leaned back on her seat and fell off with a _thunk!_ "Well," she said from the floor, "that's unexpected! Have you found any Dark Artefacts yet?"

"Every chance I get whenever Severus is out of the room," Remus replied as he helped her up and back into her chair. "At first, the voice was just saying things while I was alone, but now it's getting bolder. Last night, it spoke while Severus was in the room with me, even though he was sleeping."

"Snape never heard anything?"

Shaking his head, Remus went on, "Yesterday, after I arrived home, there was this strange shape I saw—barely, but I remember that it was actually _inside_ the house. I thought I might be wrong because it moved to the wrong direction and not into any exit points except for the window. The windows were closed, however, so no one came in. I can't explain it. It's—" He had to pause and gesture to find the right word "—a _wisp_ of something, like a transparent cloth that only shows with a particular angle of sunlight. But it was _there."_ It was frustrating to describe the feeling. As someone who had dealt with the Dark Arts and worked in the National Organisation for Werewolves, he knew that the more details he could give, the more information can be fathered for profile—yet the words seemed to have left him.

Nymphadora took a moment to respond as she resettled, likely thinking about mulling over all he had said. Remus waited until she finally said: "Did you feel something was off whenever these incidents happened?"

"Besides me being alarmed and sometimes scaring Severus half to death? No," Remus replied ruefully. "We've made separate perimeter scans inside and outside the house, and I've tried sourcing and determinate spells for Dark Artefacts, poltergeists, and anything else. Since I found no Dark Artefacts, I assumed there's no curse, but I've begun to wonder if there's anything that I might have missed."

"It's always the chance that it's one of those new curses those geek kids develop," Nymphadora mused. "But if you can't pinpoint the magic trace element, it's going to be difficult. And if it's dodging your scans, then you're going to need help."

"That's why I asked to see you," Remus admitted, fidgeting slightly. "I'm sorry, I know this was very sudden, but you know how it is, after the war."

Nymphadora shrugged, although she looked troubled. "I heard that security had to be increased for those pardoned but that's to be expected," she said, fingers accidentally brushing against her glass and tipping it over. "Oops."

Remus quickly caught it with his wand, thankful for the distraction while he tried to get a grip on the anger burning in his throat. "Look, Remus, I'm willing to look into your case as a favour, but I honestly can't see how I can be of help. You know I never specialized on Artefacts, but I might know someone who does." She patted his hand.

"So you'll help?" Remus asked hopefully.

"I will," she promised, looking thoughtful. "I'll contact you soon." Giving him an appraising look, she added, "And judging by the way you're acting, I'm guessing you'd rather keep Severus out of this."

Remus bit his lip and looked down at his drink, wishing he had at least ordered a sandwich. "Yes," he said softly. "Severus...went through a lot during the war. It took a lot out of him." Catching her raised eyebrows, Remus let some bitterness creep into his voice. "We just recently moved in together. It took me almost a year to convince him I was serious about helping him, and another few months to convince him I don't want anything from him but his trust."

Nymphadora fidgeted with the sleeve of her robe and playing with her wand holster against her wrist before answering slowly, "I can't say I understand. I know I said once that I could take your being a Werewolf, and that I would still be with you even though you put yourself in constant danger because I'm also doing that too. But this is _Snape._ And he's done a lot—"

"You know better than to judge," Remus could not help saying angrily.

She raised a hand. "I'm not saying I don't believe the testimonies," she said, shrugging. "Seeing how Harry could still defend him even though he can't even look at Snape makes me see how important this is for him." She smiled. "When we were together, I couldn't even do that much for you...defend you, I mean."

A lump rose in Remus' throat and it had nothing to do with nostalgia. Even though he didn't love this woman, he suddenly realised how much he missed her. "The man you're marrying is lucky," he told her huskily, and he squeezed her hand. "Will I ever get to meet him?"

"You've met him a few times," Nymphadora told him, laughing as she stood and readjusted her wand holster. "His name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, you oaf."

* * *

  
Severus had not started dinner when he arrived, which was expected since it was early. Remus called out, "I'm back," without expecting any answer—at least, not from Severus.

He knew where to find Severus, though. He hung his coat on the rack, loosened his tie and wand holster as he moved past the rooms. The pictures and paintings waved as he passed and he habitually waved back. Out through the hallway, he finally reached the rickety stairs leading to the spacious loft right below the roof. The muffled sounds of bubbling potions and the clang of metal hitting each other floated through the door, and Remus had to smile.

Even though it had already been a few weeks since they started living together, he still found it a comfort returning home knowing Severus would be inside his lab with his research and consignments. Leaning against the door and listening to the sounds inside, Remus knew he had made the right decision to fight against all the hype and expectations that were pressed on Severus and him. No matter what would happen, even with the phantom voice and eerie figures inside the house, nothing insubstantial was going to tear him away from Severus.

He was becoming slightly drowsy when the door flew open and Severus looked out, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and his nose looking strangely longer than usual. He frowned at Remus. "What are you doing outside my lab?"

"Listening," Remus replied, pushing the door forward and pulling Severus to his arms. "Have you finished your work?"

"I'm leaving it for an hour," Severus told him, resisting—as was his habit—for only a moment before grudgingly letting Remus lead him back into the workroom. "I was going to fix dinner. You're early."

"Mm." The methodical bubbling of the potion, the cackle of fire, the strange tinkling of flasks and tubes hanging on the wall with the invisible breeze through the ventilation pipes made a soothing combination. He pulled Severus closer and began to sway in time with the music. "Let's dance."

"Are you drunk?"

"This early evening?" Remus rested his chin on Severus' shoulder. "Dance with me."

Severus snorted. "There's no music."

"There doesn't have to be." With an arm around Severus' waist, they swayed in the middle of the room, keeping up with the tune in Remus' head. "I just need you."

Severus looked into his eyes as if he'd gone mad, but Remus only grinned at him. They were almost at the same height so it was easy to simply be together. Their figures were different enough so that their limbs fit each other with a few simple manipulations that they had already figured out previously. When Severus surrendered, Remus gently twirled him, delighted when Severus gave a small grunt that indicated he was embarrassed but was also laughing with him.

When they were close to each other again, Severus softly asked him about his day, and Remus answered just as quietly, as if the normal decibel of their voices would break a fragile spell. They spoke for a long time, simply sharing their day. More than once, Remus was tempted to share about his lunch with Nymphadora but seeing the hesitant smile on Severus' face was enough to dissuade him.

Finally, Severus seemed to rouse from the enchantment to murmur: "The potion's about to be brewed and I haven't made dinner."

"Let's eat out," Remus suggested, his breath brushing against Severus' cheek. "It's late, I'm starving."

"There'd have been dinner if you hadn't had that maudlin display," his lover told him bluntly, but there was a slight pink on his pale cheeks. "I'll finish up here."

"I'll get your robe ready." Reluctantly, Remus let Severus step back. The Potion Master's face was flushed and Remus thought his face was in quite a similar state. He watched as Severus busied himself with the potion again before going stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him to let the ventilation system work—

Then there was another movement.

With neck-breaking speed, Remus' head snapped towards the direction, but it disappeared, only finding itself at the other side of his vision, then again. Too quickly, and without form it came and disappeared. Wand in hand, Remus stepped through the hallway, checking the table in the hall and the picture frames for any disturbance, yet there was nothing until:

 _"You're not good enough!"_

Remus turned.

 _"Never!"_

There was no-one in the hallway, no more movement, but the voice—voices—was it only one?—chanted and chanted and chanted—

 _"What have you done?"_

 _"You forced him!"_

 _"He'll hate you!"_

 _"He already does!"_

 _"Just die already."_

 _ **"Just die."**_

"Remus."

Yelping, Remus turned to the nearest voice and realised he was waving his wand at a scowling Severus.

"You'd better point that thing away from me," his lover said, voice dangerous.

"Severus?" Remus lowered the wand marginally.

"Of course, you imbecile," Severus replied sourly, glaring at him. "What's wrong?"

For the first time, Remus saw that Severus was almost—but not quite—reaching for his own wand, but waiting for him to say a word. There was suspicion in Severus' eyes, but they also betrayed concern, and there was no use trying to fib his way out of this. There was no need to alarm him. "I thought I heard...rats."

"Rats," Severus repeated flatly, searching his eyes. "I should believe that?"

Heart pounding wildly, Remus challenged, "Is it something to use Veritaserum on?"

A pause, then Severus shook his head. "You're an idiot, Remus." He pushed past Remus and said, "Should I check to see if there's leftover in the icebox?"

"No," Remus replied quickly, grabbing Severus' hand before he got farther. "I...let's not eat here." It was cowardly, but the house was giving him goose-bumps and he was out of ideas on what to do about it. He didn't want to stay there. "I'm sorry, I panicked suddenly. Are you ready? Let's get your coat."

Severus allowed himself to be dragged to the hallway where Remus quickly found their cloaks to put over their robes. "I don't like being kept in the dark, Remus," he grumbled.

"You're not," Remus assured him as he helped fasten Severus' cloak. "Of course not."

Mainly because Remus himself also knew nothing.

* * *

  
Dinner was strained at first with Severus alternately hurling barbs and being stonily silent and Remus trying to apologise. It was only when Severus grudgingly admitted he had seen one rat in the garden that Remus said, "You see?" and they talked about something else.

When they returned, Remus brought some treats for their owls who had both made their nests on a nearby tree. His silver owl had the evening paper he had forgotten to collect earlier, and Severus' magnificent dark brown owl was perched next to small Scops owl. It fluttered to his hand and gave him a note before leaving without waiting for a treat.

Nymphadora wrote she would be by the next day, and she would bring a Curse-Breaker. Now he had to make sure Severus was out of the house.

* * *

  
Another owl arrived during breakfast the next day, but this time it was one they both recognised as Hogwarts standard. Severus abruptly stood from the table to retrieve the note as Remus searched for some treats for the messenger. The treat he offered was quickly snatched before the bird went off to the branches outside where their own owls sat sleeping. It was obviously instructed to await his response.

"That woman is persistent, isn't she?" Severus grumbled after unrolling the parchment.

"You _are_ thinking about it, right?" Remus asked. "You know how hard it is to get teachers for Hogwarts, especially after the war."

Severus' eyes scanned through the letter quickly, then darted back to reread. "What is the use of returning? Minerva was always an idealist despite her decisions, something like the old Headmaster—" He bit his lip and refused to meet Remus' eyes even as his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. "This is pure, utter manipulation for the intent of ‘good'."

Unable to resist, Remus said, "Can you really blame her? She was one of the last to believe you turned and she was one of the first to call for your rescue. I'm not the only one who knows you have potential." He reached out to touch Severus' arm. "Even if you think otherwise."

Severus snorted, glaring down at the letter in his hand. "I'm not some child who needs to be encouraged towards a goal, Remus."

There was a lump in Remus' throat that refused to leave. _No, you're not. It's only you never had the chance to be a child._ "What else does she say?"

"That if I owl her with details, she is prepared to bargain with me regarding my control over the requirements to be taught, and that there is still a need to revise the curriculum for the first years' classes." Severus looked up, then said angrily, "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like... _that._ I am _not_ some charity case, not yours, nor Minerva's. I may not be making the decision that is best for me, but I am more concerned that I am making decisions solely _for my own benefit!"_ Fingers trembling in fury at the words, Severus pulled away from his touch and pushed the letter into his pocket.

Remus sighed. "I trust you, Severus," he told him truthfully. "No matter what, I would never think of you as a something for merely charity. God knows I've had my share of that in the past." Stepping closer, he added, "When I said I love you and asked you to move in with me, all I could think of was that we've wasted so many years ignoring the chance to be together, and now that I had a real new chance to live, I wanted it to be with you. Your decisions are yours, of course, but..." He hesitated, yet plunged on because it needed to be said: "You have to know that I want you to be happy as well."

"Are you...questioning my decisions?" Severus demanded.

"Just questioning your ability to make them," Remus replied, steeling his nerves, "knowing you continue to think that there are still things that you do not deserve to have."

Freezing silence engulfed the room.

When Severus spoke, his voice was harsh and cold. "You believe it's easy to grab everything that's being offered to you simply because it's finally within grasp? I've had that carrot dangled before my nose, and it's always been jerked out of my reach so many times—"

"And I?" Remus interrupted, his heart pounding in his ears, wishing he could just say _stop, stop, stop!_ "Am I simply something you settled for?"

"Fuck you, Remus Lupin," Severus hissed. "You obviously know nothing about how I think." Then he walked out of the kitchen to the backdoor, yelling at the direction of the hooting owls, "No return message!" before disappearing with a _crack!_

* * *

  
Remus sat down, feeling weariness overcome his body even though it was only morning. He sat there for a few more minutes, decided he had lost his appetite, and finally cleared the table before he made his way for the fireplace.

"Nymphadora Tonks," he said half-heartedly as he released the Floo powder.

It took a few moments for Nymphadora's face to appear on the flames. "Hullo," she said cheerfully. "Snape out of the house yet?"

"Yes, and not through any effort of mine," Remus told her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Great. Let me contact him then we'll be right over."

It didn't take long for Nymphadora's small figure to tumble out of the fireplace, coughing as soot flew from her robes. "Huh, never got that right. Oops, sorry, I know a nice cleaning spell that'll take the soot marks off the carpet, eh, Remus?"

"Don't bother," Remus told her, shrugging. "I'll manage somehow. Oh, here's your friend."

To his surprise, the person who stepped out after her was—

"Hullo, Professor," said Ron Weasley, awkwardly shaking soot off his hair.

"Ron!" Remus jumped up, puzzled but still extending an arm to shake his old student's hand. "How have you been?"

The lanky red-haired man gave him a grin. "I'm getting by. Surprised I'm not Bill?"

"Yes—I mean, no," Remus replied, looking puzzled. "I wasn't expecting someone I actually knew, that is. I haven't heard about you from Harry, though."

"Well..." Ron scratched his head sheepishly. "Harry passed the Auror exams on his first try, and it didn't really help he was going through each class in just two months. I got out of the program after the second year."

Remus had heard of that, of course, but it was impolite to ask about it. "It's too bad, I thought you might have made a great Auror."

"So did Hermione, and she made this shite up about how I wasn't performing based on my abilities—oh, sorry for that, Professor." Ron clearly looked embarrassed at his slip but Remus waved it away.

"I'm not your professor anymore, Ron. Feel free to address me with my name."

"Thanks, er, Lupin. Sir." Ron laughed. "Maybe give me time? Tonks said there's something you want help with. I'm not an expert with Curse-breaking, but that was one of my highest scores before I left the training."

"I brought Ron here because he's not under any official department," Nymphadora said as she inspected the photos on the mantle. "And he knows enough from both his official trainings and from those Bill taught him. Remus, is this a picture of Snape...in _diapers?"_

Remus buried his face in his hands, hoping Severus' and Nymphadora's paths would never cross in the future. "Yes, and before you ask, I insisted. I was going to put it away when someone visited, but I got...distracted earlier."

Ron took a closer look at the picture of the scowling boy and chuckled. "He looks like he was shrunk. Doesn't he _ever_ smile?"

"I've never seen any of his photos smile," Remus replied truthfully, shrugging. "He's always turning away or glaring, or just reading a book."

"I never even pegged Snape as the kind who collected photos," Ron said unsuccessfully keeping his smile from his face. "Or even the kind who'll display them if he did."

Remus shrugged, smiling fondly at the memory. "He's not," he confessed. "He said most of these photos were taken without his permission—I just rescued them from being burned. I like having them around the house. Don't they look cosy?"

"Truthfully? Having a dozen Snape photos glaring at me from the walls isn't my idea of cosy."

From the kitchen, Nymphadora's voice called out, "Remus, this is where you saw whatever it was first, right?"

"Yes," Remus called back, following her to the room with Ron tagging behind. They found her prying through the kitchen, wand in her hand and her lips pursed, peeking at the small spaces of the bright kitchen. "Sorry for the mess. I haven't had time to clean up yet."

"Geez, is Snape really this clean? I remember you used to be pretty messy, Remus. Snape must be doing you _some_ good, at least. The only dirty thing here is the dishes. I haven't found anything suspicious though, what do you think, Ron?"

"Nothing," Ron managed to put in through the non-stop chatter. Remus watched as he scanned the room with his wand. "You said you did a scan here, Remus?"

"I did, right after I saw the thing, and again last night."

"Hm, nothing out of the ordinary." Ron frowned, looking at the wall next to the window. His eyes squinted, as if he was seeing something that wasn't there, although his sight seemed to readjust moments later. "There's a strange feeling, though...."

"Strange?"

"Well, the feeling that...do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?" Ron blurted out, his face red.

Remus and Nymphadora exchanged glances. "I usually do," Nymphadora confessed. "But I'm not getting that feeling now. Are you?"

"Just a little," Ron admitted. "It's probably nothing though. You know how the brain acts up when it's excited." He gave them a rueful smile. "It was one of the reasons why I failed all those exams in the training."

"You can take it next time, if you still want to," Nymphadora told him cheerfully, patting his shoulder.

With a small shiver, Ron beckoned them out of the kitchen. "Should we check the entire house? I'm not comfortable saying this...while we're standing still."

Remus frowned, then did as he was told, leading them out of the kitchen and through the different rooms in the house. Ron and Nymphadora performed standard scanning spells, plus a few more that Remus was forbidden to perform. He watched as the younger man instructed Nymphadora on a set of spells he wished performed and was also forbidden to use, and the woman quickly complied, discussing some of the methods with him.

When they finished—Nymphadora poked her head in the laboratory and immediately pronounced it "free of anything except the foul things Snape's been brewing. It smells _awful!"_ —Remus watched as Ron frowned and look down to his shoes.

"Ron," he finally said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder, "you mentioned something about being watched?"

Ron gave him a troubled smile. "Er, can we go outside?"

Following the way the younger man's eyes darted around, Remus nodded and beckoned to Nymphadora. They made their way outside to the backyard, sitting on some of the chairs set under the trees where the owls sat, sleeping on their respective branches of their trees. It was obvious that some of the tension left Ron's body once they were out of the house.

"What is it, Ron?" Remus asked.

Ron scratched his head a little sheepishly. "Like I said, it's very baseless—the feeling of being watched. It's not always certain, and it's nothing you can pinpoint with magic, but it's still _there."_

Frowning, some things began to click in Remus' head. "The first time I heard the voice," he said slowly," was around a month after Severus moved in... I was barely conscious—and it was right after the full moon." He met their gazes. "My senses weren't quite aware then."

"Around two weeks ago, wasn't it?" Nymphadora thought for a moment, counting dates. "Before that, you never heard or suspected anything?"

"Not that I remember—besides, we were busy going through all the things," Remus defended. "I was tired the first time I heard it. My defences were down."

"And right now," Ron said slowly, "your Werewolf senses aren't keen at all, right?"

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "My senses become stronger the day before the full moon and the day of the transformation itself, but my mind is human for the rest of the month. If it started anytime before that, it's possible that my senses would have picked it during the full moon." He took a deep breath, heart sinking. "And it's not a full moon right now."

"Then it means that the timeline is correct," Nymphadora said firmly.

After a few moments, Ron gave a sigh. "So it's still a question of what we're looking for. I've been doing trace analysis on magical component, and other than the occasional Poltergeists, I'm not picking the idea that there's been a haunting recently. A Dark Artefact is the most plausible, however."

Staring at Remus, Nymphadora touched his hand and said quietly, "It can also inevitably mean...that Snape brought the Dark Artefact himself."

"What?" Remus felt his jaw fall and beside him, he saw Ron look alarmed and guilty at the same time. He glared at them both, snatching his hand away from Nymphadora's touch, feeling burned. "You mean he might have brought it in unknowingly, right?"

"You said it yourself, Remus," the woman told him gently, as if talking to a child. "Other than that, we can't even see if there's anything wrong going on. We can't talk about hauntings with only a ‘feeling' and half-seen figures."

"But Ron's felt it," Remus insisted.

"A feeling's nothing to focus on," Ron mumbled, his face becoming as bright as his hair. "Professor—Remus, we're not saying he would, only that he might not have known he did. You know a Dark Item can be made through two ways: actual construction of the material for a harmful intent, and the other through accidental immersion through another item or through malicious intent. If anything, Snape may have unknowingly made one."

Yet the doubt in their eyes told him the truth. Unwilling to lash out, Remus glanced at both their faces incredulously. "Was the war not enough for you? Wasn't the past year enough for both of you? Severus has been tortured enough by the Ministry of Magic—and I will _not_ have him discussed like a criminal, especially in our own house!"

"You have to consider it, Remus." It was hateful how Ron's voice was patronising. "It gives us at least something to build on—"

"You...with practically no case to build on, that's the most plausible explanation you can come up with?" Gritting his teeth, Remus turned away from the two whom he thought were his friends. "Get out, now. I will not be responsible for my actions."

"We're just trying to help," Nymphadora said, her voice sounding firm yet wobbly.

Shaking his head, the Werewolf left them standing in his backyard, barely hearing the sharp _pop!_ when they Apparated away.

* * *

  
He had to credit Ron Weasley, at least.

Remus felt the eyes all over him when he entered the house.


	4. Chapter 3

What he and Severus had wasn't perfect, Remus knew. Even though they were young by Wizarding standards, participating at the heart of two wars took their toll. Their past had been an issue they had to go through, and there was too much animosity that it seemed so impossible to forget each transgression, let alone forgive. Yet looking back, Remus supposed that friendship and trust were the hardest...and they managed.

The first time they kissed, Severus had been so racked in pain that Remus had done it partly to stop him from screaming. He had swallowed words to keep the sobbing man silent because he knew Severus did not like anyone seeing him weakened, hearing the cries being torn from his lips. Severus later yelled at him until Remus kissed him again, softer this time.

When he first told Severus he loved him, the first words from Severus' mouth had been: "You can't be, it's impossible." It would have been an insult if the man who spoke them had not looked so vulnerable and hopeful—and angry for being hopeful—at the same time.

It took Severus months to get used to his Werewolf state. Bouts of depression came often, and it was worse with the Ministry of Magic visiting Severus every so often—first in the obscure London hospital, then for a short period in Azkaban, and even when he lived alone for a short time—when they questioned him about his crimes and role in the War. Separately, the Werewolf Equality Rights was also being written and perfected by a zealous Hermione Granger, which affected Remus' state as well. They were undoubtedly a bloody mess.

Remus liked to think, with this peace stretched before them, they had all the time in the world to iron out their differences. Severus hated talking—he'd rather Remus figure out if anything was wrong—but Remus knew he had to be persistent if he wanted this to work.

Sometimes, though, he wished Severus would meet him halfway.

* * *

  
Severus arrived late at night, stepping out from the Floo and headed directly to his laboratory, locking the door behind him. Remus watched his lover walk past him, his rigid stance telling him that he was still unwilling to forgive. The urge to call him back was quickly quelled. He wanted to; he knew enough of Severus to know that he should nip this in the bud and talk it out.

Yet something held him back, something that made him clench his fingers and bite his lip, glaring down at the carpet.

 _"The feeling of being watched,"_ Ron had said.

It raised the hairs at the nape of Remus' neck, and his eyes darted quickly to the different parts of the living room, especially where the shadows resided. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was no sound except for the ticking of the clock and the sigh of the breeze outside, coupled with the night sounds. Even Severus was silent in his lab.

 _Make a noise,_ he thought to the phantom presence. _Say anything, do anything, let me see you._

But there was nothing, not even a whisper, a movement, a hint of magic other than his and Severus' swirling in the air.

Remus jumped when he heard a loud sound came from outside. He only relaxed when the squawking of owls told him a message had arrived, and with a sigh of relief, he left the room to step out of the house and to their yard.

The new owl was a Hogwarts standard. It sat on the branch with Severus' owl and watched him with large eyes, head rotating slowly before it finally held out a claw to show the parchment. When the treats were given out, Remus finally unrolled the parchment to read the willowy handwriting.

>  _I do not know what to tell Severus other than he can't keep punishing himself any more.  
>  I only desire a concrete answer. Will he? Won't he?  
> Even he has to agree it does not have to be a difficult choice.  
> I await his decision.  
> \- Minerva._

  
Tucking the parchment in his robe, Remus sent the Hogwarts owl on its way before lying on the grass, closing his eyes against the night sky and the branches looming over him. He did not know how long he stayed there, only that the stars seemed to be in a different position when he opened his eyes, and Severus was looking down at him, only inches from his face.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Only a fool would sleep outside when there's a perfectly comfortable bed inside the house."

Remus had to smile at the sardonic tone and immediately wrapped his arms around Severus, pulling him into his arms despite the initial resistance. "It's nice and safe here."

"Oh, so with me in the house—"

"Severus," he had to interrupt, "why won't you accept the position?"

Severus spoke in a low voice: "You know the answer to that."

"I can't," Remus told him with some regret. "I'm not you, and I can't read you all the time no matter how much I want to. I can't even begin to fathom everything that you've been through, just as I can't expect you to readily understand everything about me." He closed his eyes. "But we can still try, can't we?"

There was a pause as the Potion Master rested very still on his chest, not even breathing. Remus looked up at the dark sky littered with stars, waiting for an answer.

Finally, Severus shifted in his arms, not lifting his head for the response. "It's not that I don't want to teach." His usually solid voice was laced with uncertainty, as if he was still going through his thoughts. "But you, of all people, should know how it feels to walk through a room that has been unchanged by time, thinking that if the walls could speak, they would scream out your mistakes."

Remus felt the lump in his throat returning, and his hold on Severus tightened.

"For years... _years,_ I spent it like that, unable to run away from a past I hated," Severus continued, tone growing soft. "You said, before, you accepted me for who I am, but it's the choices we make that make us—and I've made too many wrong ones. Now, I have a chance to actually forget those that I know can never be forgiven."

"Severus," Remus sighed.

"It's not spite," Severus told him firmly, but his fingers clenched around Remus' arm in a tight grip. "You can call it running away, but I'm alive now. If it's the only way I'll survive, I'll survive like this every single day. Every stone in that bloody school knows what I've done." His voice shaking, he muttered, "I'm tired of listening to the past. I can never go back."

Remus wanted to reassure him, to tell him that the past was something he can never run away from. He could speak from experience, tell him how he, himself, had run away from his mistakes until they piled up and made his regrets more difficult to handle. He wanted to hold Severus and tell him that he had faced the same frightening choice when he realised he was in love with Severus—and that he did not regret facing the past if it meant he would be happy with Severus forever.

He wanted to say how much he thought Severus had the potential to be happier, then ask if he was happy with Remus. If by being with Remus meant he was running away from everything that could hurt him, was that the only reason Severus accepted him?

There were so many things Remus wanted to tell his lover, but somehow the words refused to formulate. He could only let Severus bury his face in his hair, stroke his lover's back, and let his mind work furiously.

Severus had said: _"Every stone in that bloody school knows what I've done."_

It was exactly how Remus felt while inside the house.

* * *

  
Remus sent letters to Ron and Nymphadora, expressing his apologies for acting as he did—even though they should have expected he would defend Severus that way. Nevertheless, he told them he was grateful for their help and that he would keep in touch...but this was something he had to do for himself.

When Severus left to meet a client who needed some ingredients for her potion personally delivered, Remus went through the house again. It was useless to look through the dark and easily-concealed places; nevertheless, he took his chances and continued. There was nothing. He walked around the house, mindful of his every step as well as any movement in every corner, but nothing was out of the ordinary. In the silence and the lack of Severus' presence, there now seemed to be an oppressive layer that threatened to overcome the previous safety he had pegged on his house.

It could turn out really bad, Remus mused, frowning as he went through the books in the library. He had lit every lamp in the room but he still found himself trembling in paranoia. He didn't know if he could continue to stay another day in this place. He _had_ to speak to Severus, he decided. There was no other way, and he was sure Severus would understand...

Yet the mystery kept nagging him. He flipped through an old Defense Against the Dark Arts text he owned, staring blankly at words written on the pages—and not exactly making sense of the terms. His tense muscles ached, and it was getting harder not to simply reach for his wand and incinerate the entire house just to make the feeling _stop._ Glaring down at the words, he thought back at what he knew.

Nymphadora had told him it was likely to be a curse, and deduced because the magical properties are defaulted as "harmful". Ron hadn't said it was a curse at first, only made him aware of that strange presence of not-there-but-watching enveloping the house. In all of Remus' readings on Dark Arts, he had never encountered anything like that—

Unless.

Suddenly, he sat up straight and looked down at the book in his hands, flipped to look for a page, found nothing, and grabbed another similarly-themed book. He searched for it... _where is it?_

An hour later, mindless of the phantom eyes still watching, Remus rushed to the fireplace to call Ron and Nymphadora.

* * *

  
They Apparated at the backyard at late afternoon, their wands in their hands.

"So the presence got worse?" Ron asked quickly. "Is Snape out?"

"He won't come in until sunset," Remus told them, motioning for them to keep clear from the windows. "Hopefully by then, we'll be finished."

"Finished with what?" Nymphadora asked excitedly. Her hair was turning pink in anticipation and she almost tripped over her robe. "Have you found anything?"

Remus shook his head. "No."

"Then why'd you call for us?"

Giving a cautious glance at the house, Remus stepped closer to them and said in a low voice, "You both suggested that it's a curse, and it could be manifested through a Dark Artefact, right?"

"A curse doesn't necessarily have to be an item," Ron reminded him, but he was looking intrigued. "As long as it's classified as 'repetitive outcomes with harmful intent', it's identified as a 'curse'."

"But _how_ does an item become cursed?" Remus put in. He held out a hand that clutched his wand. "Ron, you reminded me that an item can become cursed through two ways: actual formation of the curse, and the other through accident."

"Wait," Nymphadora interrupted, her face scrunching to a frown. "First, you were ready to throw us out for saying things against Snape. Now, you're actually saying that Severus made a cursed item?"

Remus gave her a small smile. "I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

Nymphadora smiled back. "Remus, I know you're not really sorry for that." She almost bounced. "But don't keep us waiting! Go on!"

Taking a deep breath, Remus said a bit apologetically, "I'm not saying I believe Severus did everything...in a way. When I was younger, I travelled extensively and learned about the magical theories in other countries. Have you heard the concept of 'aura'?" When the two nodded at him in confusion, Remus continued, "In most parts of Europe, magical abilities are taught in schools at age eleven, in which the children are then allowed their own wands. Before that, they could only use wandless magic, and the concept of using wandless magic is always implied to be uncontrollable or unmanageable unless training is done at a reasonable age.

"In other parts of the world, wandless magic _is_ the norm for witches and wizards. Control is taught during childhood so they wouldn't need an extension—such as a wand—that would help channel their abilities. But as with here, emotion is also one of the greatest factors that can control the direction of magic."

"Emotional value is also the largest value for intent," Ron murmured.

Nodding at him, Remus added, "It's simple, come to think of it. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. In our culture, the ages that a child manages without a wand can be difficult...and more difficult if the emotions can leak out of child." He paused as Ron and Nymphadora stared at him silently, then hesitated. Severus' past was not his to tell, but it could be implied. "You both should know...that Severus' past isn't pretty."

He let the implications set in, watching as their expressions turned into understanding, then horror.

"Then," Nymphadora breathed, "he _could_ have made a Dark Artefact...without him even knowing it?"

"He could," Remus admitted, "but it's something that would be difficult to pinpoint. It's a Dark Item in the sense that there's a collection of malicious aura that can affect other people, but it's not really a curse unless it specifically and intentionally affects particular events." Ruefully, he added, "In this case, it's well on its way in becoming a Cursed Item."

For a moment, they stared at each other, contemplating the implications, until Nymphadora spoke again, "It makes sense, Remus, better than the other theories we had earlier. But you have to remember that it should also involve something that comes from Snape's childhood—and something that's always with him even now. Does Snape even have something like that, Remus?"

Remus thought hard, then shook his head, deflated. "Well...come to think of it, no. He doesn't have much of the clothes from his childhood left, and clothing accumulates auras more slowly, I think. Books have more potential—"

"Diapers," Ron said suddenly.

They both stared at him in shock. "What?!" Nymphadora yelped.

Ron simply stared back. "Something that Snape had since childhood. Something that can gather malicious and harmful intent. Something that _can_ have a consciousness. And something—or _things_ —that you take for granted so much that it's _all over the house."_

It was Remus' turn to gape. "I...never even considered that."

"What is it?" Nymphadora burst out.

Ron glanced at the house and visibly shuddered. "It's Snape himself. In the photographs."

* * *

  
"It'll be easy, then." Nymphadora, despite the situation, looked like she was determined to remain cheerful. "We can unhinge all of those bloody frames, put them in one place, and just see which removal spells will work."

They all stared at the house, as if waiting for the walls to swallow them.

"I was in the same year as him," Remus breathed, mind furiously turning to figure everything out. It all made sense now. "I hung a lot of photos of my own around the house—and some of them could have had Severus—or his previous incarnate—lurking at the background."

"It's likely that your photographs are affected as well," Ron told him carefully. "It's probably also the reason why you thought the figure was inside the house when you first saw him—because he _is._ He just ran from one photo to another."

"But doesn't that only happen to paintings, though?" Nymphadora asked. "I mean, photos always move, but they usually only stay in one frame."

"They usually do," Remus said, "but they may not."

They fell silent again.

Then, Ron finally hefted his shoulders and removed his wand from his pockets. "Okay. What's the plan?"

"We can burn all the photos," Nymphadora suggested.

"No!" Remus shouted, shaking his head vigorously. "I don't want to explain to Severus why his photos suddenly disappeared."

The woman stared at him incredulously. "Don't you think it's more important to save your sanity than to keep those bloody pictures of his?"

"You don't understand," Remus insisted. _"I_ like those photos. It's so hard to talk about the past to Severus without dredging up old memories—and he avoids it like a plague. I don't want to risk—"

"Well, _I_ for one do not want to risk _you,"_ Nymphadora humphed. "I know you mean well, Remus, but it's really too much."

Yet in his mind, Remus could hear his lover telling him, _"You can call it running away. If it's the only way I'll survive, I'll survive like this every single day."_ All the uncertainties and doubts he had since the beginning overcame him: about Severus keeping his distance, Severus not needing him, Severus only being with him because he thought only Remus would have him.

And Remus had put those photos on the wall, feeling like he was trying to possess him in every way possible. Consuming Severus had been easy, but now Remus wanted...what? If he could not possess Severus, what else could he have that only belonged to his lover?

Burning the photos would be a step back, removing something tangible from the past that belonged to Severus but now also came to belong to Remus. It would not do having them burned.

"Is there any other way?" he asked, almost desperately. "I mean, besides burning them?"

Ron and Nymphadora exchanged glances.

"Well," Ron said slowly, "I can try to exorcise them. But the spell is tricky, and we should do it fast—right now, even. Before Snape comes home."

"Why?" Nymphadora asked curiously.

"Because it involves removing the cursed aura," the red-haired boy replied amicably. "And since it belongs to Snape, it'll be naturally attracted to him. With the quantity of anger and hate it's accumulated, they'll all transfer to Snape and merge with all his current emotions. It'll be harder to control him then. It's obvious that the malicious intent is rising every day. If we wait until tomorrow, it might be too late."

"Alright." Remus nodded, relieved that there was something they could actually do. "Quickly, let's get all those frames in the living room. There's no more time."

They made their way back into the house. The sun was beginning to set.


	5. Chapter 4

It took almost an hour to gather all the photographs. Remus had to drag out his old photographs to block potential hiding places. It almost seemed like the virus he and Nymphadora discussed, but different from their original idea, and it would have made him smile if the roiling coil of hate hadn't hit him once the photos were all gathered.

Now that he looked closely, he could see how Severus' face scowled up at him—not at Ron, nor Nymphadora, but at _Remus_ —in every age. Severus in his nappies even seemed to be mutated as he grimaced, and it troubled Remus enough that he wondered if he could still ever see his lover the same way again.

"Nasty," Nymphadora muttered at the pile.

"Get ready then," Ron said. They had cleared a large part of the living room to give space for the cleansing. "I'll trace my wand above all the photos and collect all the energy before I can do the cleansing. Mind, don't let my concentration break though, or else my hold on the energy will be released—and you'll have a mass of energy without anywhere to go. It'll be difficult to take it back."

Remus and Nymphadora nodded.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Remus asked Ron, touching his shoulder.

His old student flashed him a smile. "I will, Remus, thank you for asking." He hesitated for a while before hurriedly adding, "And I'm sorry for insulting Snape. I know how important he is to you. I shouldn't have said anything."

Remus only shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Ron. You meant well, and I can clearly see how my own view may have clouded my judgment."

"No," Ron told him, a bit unhappily, "it's also because I have a feeling about how he might have felt." He paused. "Harry...Harry went through that as well, especially after he def—ki—def— _killed_ V-voldemort. You know how it was. He's just...lucky he has a lot of friends." Ron looked at him, his smile wobbling at the corners of his mouth. "Snape only has you. But I think you're enough for him."

Touched, Remus gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you, Ron." He stepped back just as the younger man raised his wand over the pile of photos and began an elaborate choreography of wand swishing and waving, murmuring words under his breath as his eyes drifted to a close.

Remus watched as the phantom Severus-es emerged from the frames, one by one—at the foreground in a school photo, from a tree near the waving Marauders, from his rigid stance next to his mother's form, from the shots of scenery, the other pictures—all glaring as they were forced out of the photographs.

 _"Why did he fall in love with you?"_ one shouted in anguish.

 _"I can't understand!"_ another screamed.

 _"You're a werewolf!"_

 _"You've hurt him enough!"_

The hatred in their voice was laced with something else that Remus could recognise, and he watched with half-horror and half-fascination as dark and silver threads swirled in the air, twirling, looping around one another to gather into a large swirling mass at the tip of Ron's wand. The threads wobbled dangerously with each wave in the air, but Ron brought up one hand to _trap_ it with his fingers. Wailing and writhing, the voices continued to berate and scream in Severus' voice, tearing Remus' heart.

 _"I'll never fall in love with you!"_ a voice yelled. _"Never! Never!"_

 _He sounds confused,_ Remus thought sadly, _and lonely._

On and on, the babble of voices began to fade with time, as the pulsating aura rolled through the tips of Ron's fingers and stretched to reach for his wand, which the young man used to control the pulling and the threading.

 _"I'll never accept you,"_ a voice said.

 _"Why?"_ Severus was asking.

Broken, defeated, and still hating, it spoke: _"Why is it you? Of all people, why you?"_

"Oh, Severus," Remus sighed.

The door flew open. Severus Snape took one look at them, at the photos, then managed to say: "What the bloody hell is this?"

Then everything went wrong.

* * *

  
Nymphadora, trained to obey strict orders even if the one who gave it to her was Ron, was the first to react. She pointed her wand at Severus, shouting, _"Stupe—"_

But Severus was just as quick, whipping out his wand and countering her attack with a spell that exploded just as she and Remus ducked out of the way.

 _"Remus!"_ Severus bellowed.

Distracted by the interruption, Ron whirled around and lost control of the mass. He held out his wand to try to regain control over it, but the black and silver energy seemed to sense that their original source was near. With a crackle and hiss, they turned their agitation to Severus.

"Ron!" Remus cried out.

Ron lunged forward, desperately trying to catch the force and distract them. "Get Snape!" he shouted back, but it was too late.

The ball of silvery and black threads swung towards Severus and slammed into him with such force he fell back in surprise. Remus made his way to the fallen figure, only to watch in horror as his lover's face became an accumulation of expressions—one horrifying grimace after the other.

Then, just as it seemed that it would have no effect on the Potions Master, Severus turned to Remus' direction, aimed his wand, and uttered, _"Incarcerous."_

It was pure instinct that made Remus roll to the side, banging his knee on the floor and twisting his hip as the spell bounced on the floor, think and snake-like ropes coiling around nothing until they writhed on the floor and over the pile of photos. The moment was accompanied by a tremendous crash and yelping, and Remus quickly ran through the possible ways to handle the situation.

"Severus," Remus said desperately, "it's not real—"

"Shut up!" Severus roared, whirling to him with his eyes blazing. The force of his rage made his lanky frame loom larger and darker. "Not real? How _dare_ you belittle my past! You, who should understand why it has to remain in the past! _Incendio!"_

Flames shot out of his wand and to Remus' direction—too quick but he was quicker now, yet the heat blast caught the edge of the carpet, licking its way through the ground and finding other things to feed its vengeance.

From somewhere, Tonks' voice yelled, _"Arresto momentum!"_ and Remus took the chance to dive towards the sofa, glancing around. Ron gestured with arms, trying frantically to call the trail of energy drifting to Snape and forcing them to stay in a convoluted mass around his fingers. Even then, the flames and smoke began to make their way through the room, claiming some things and engulfing things that had been thrown aside.

"Severus!" Remus shouted again with mounting desperation. "Listen to me!"

 _"Levicorpus!"_ Severus snarled and there was a shriek. Eyes widening, Remus caught sight of Nymphadora lifted up to the low ceiling, as she twisted her body to prevent damage.

Without thinking, he pointed his wand at her, yelling, _"Liberacorpus! Impedimenta!"_ He did not watch if she would land safely as he jumped up and cast a body-binding spell at Severus, who simply brushed it away with a flick of his arm.

"Remus!" Ron yelled from beyond the flames. "It's no use! It's become his emotions! There's no way to save him!"

"Save me?" Severus laughed harshly, his form dark against the orange flames. "Is that all I am to you? Someone to _save?!"_ His eyes met Remus', and there was nothing in his expression except pain and anger.

Remus reached out. "Save and protect—"

Severus turned away from his gaze, bringing down his wand with a sneer. _"Diffin—"_

 _"Depulso!"_ Ron screamed.

And Severus was blasted to the wall, his back slamming forcefully into the wood. Remus could hear more than see through the thickening cloud of smoke, coughing as he made his way through the growing flames. Somewhere near, he heard Nymphadora conjure a liquid spell over and over, but Remus was quickly making his way to where Severus was thrown. It eerily reminded him of that time in Hogwarts, four years ago when Dumbledore...he pushed the image out of his mind, yelling Severus' name and tripping over the debris more than once.

He found Severus struggling to stand. Without wasting any time, Remus grabbed him and pulled him into his arms.

"Let _go,"_ Severus snarled, struggling against him.

"Remus!" Ron yelled again. "Bind him! Quick!"

"No," Remus said angrily. There was probably a better way to handle this, but right now he couldn't think of anything so he held Severus' body and tightened his hold. "I won't let you go!"

"Ron!" Nymphadora shouted. "I need help! Control the fire!"

Ron hesitated, then nodded and put a hand on Remus' shoulder, squeezing momentarily before he stood.

"Remus," Severus muttered, "let go. _Let go!"_

"No!" Remus told him firmly. He could feel the body trembling beneath him—in anger or revulsion, he did not know. Emotions as strong as those, accumulated over the years, and all of them being captured in the photographs enough that they could actually manifest in such a strong energy....

It terrified Remus, but not enough that he was going to forget.

Despite the anger, the voice had sounded lonely.

"I won't let go," he told Severus again. "After the war, you said you wanted to be free, that there's nothing here for you. But I'm sure that's not true. You have your life, you have your friends, you have me. I don't understand how you can still want to punish yourself for living instead of everyone else, but I don't want to be your punishment. I'll let you go only if you really want to leave."

Severus was silent but his arms slowly crept around Remus' back, fingers digging through the burnt clothing and into his skin, as if he wasn't sure if Remus would allow it but unwilling to let go anyway. Remus buried his face in Severus' neck, breathing in the scent of charred hair and skin, of sweat and blood.

"Please," he told Severus, not caring if his voice was cracking, "just please...if you want to be free, don't leave when all you have is hate."

* * *

  
Nymphadora and Ron managed to put out the fire, but the damage in the living room floor and walls was extensive, spreading to the other rooms in the house as well as the upstairs bedroom. Severus' lab was partly intact except for some sensitive ingredients/ungruents that exploded at the rise in temperature, yet it was the least of their worries.

"The photos got burned after all," Ron told them ruefully when as they stared at the remains of the room.

Remus kept one arm around Severus, who seemed to be coping with the sudden influx of angry emotions. "It's nothing," he told the younger man, giving him a smile. "There's nothing we can do about it." He looked around. "Where's—"

"Tonks is outside, waiting for the Ministry. With all the magic spells we performed here, you'll have to expect Aurors coming in." Ron gave them an apologetic shrug. "I have a feeling we'll be in the hot seat for a while."

"Why..." When Severus spoke, his voice was dry and coarse, as if he had not spoken for a long time. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Why...are you here, Mr Weasley?"

Ron scratched his head. "Tonks asked me to," he replied truthfully, watching his old professor carefully. "And Remus is an old friend."

Severus stared at the boy as if seeing him for the first time. "You were...the Weasley who failed the Auror Programme, right?"

The younger man's face flushed in both embarrassment and annoyance but he managed to keep his emotions in check—barely. "Yeah," he muttered.

But Severus went on, "Don't settle for anything less than what you want." Startled, Remus looked at his lover, but his eyes were only on Ron. "Don't punish yourself."

This time, the irritation was apparent in Ron's eyes. "Don't worry, sir," he spat out, "I'm not like you."

Severus nodded, leaning closer to Remus, who watched the exchange with his heart in his throat. "I know," the Potions Master intoned, closing his eyes. "That's good."

"You're full of crap, Snape," Ron told him, but his voice seemed to waver with uncertainty. Remus pulled Severus into his arms and led him to the kitchen, where the furniture was still intact and there was running water for washing up before the authorities arrived.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked Severus as he lowered his lover on a seat.

Severus sighed. "I'm fine." He looked up to assess Remus in turn, asking, "Are you?"

"Yes." Remus thought about getting water, but he felt so tired and sore that he collapsed on a chair next to Severus, reaching out to take his lover's hand and trapping them with his fingers. "Do you need anything while we wait?"

Severus shook his head just as Nymphadora poked her head from the entryway to say, "Oh, don't use your wand, the Ministry people will need to inspect them."

"That will not be a problem," Severus told her steadily.

She watched them for a while, then nodded before she disappeared out to the yard once more.

"We can't let them know what happened," Remus said, already thinking of the different scenarios that they will have to explain. "It's going to be difficult to go around this, but maybe we can talk to Nymphadora and Ron. With both our pasts—"

"Remus," Severus interrupted wearily, "it'll be fine." He gave him a small smile, but his grip on Remus' fingers was strong and comforting. Taking a deep breath, he said, "You were right. This time, I won't run away."

Remus stared at his eyes and saw determination mingle with relief, and it fell over his body as if in respite. There was another lump in his throat. It was strange how it always seemed to be there lately.

With their hands held together, they settled in silence, communicating with their touches, and knew they didn't have to wait long.


	6. Epilogue

A few days later, Ron told him he was going for a trip.

"The Auror Programme wasn't my dream," he said, shrugging, "but it was _a_ dream. I've gotten hand-me-downs for so long that I couldn't even recognise when something is really mine anymore."

The young man in comfortable Muggle clothes looked strangely matched with the electrical equipment around him, and did not even blink in surprise when Remus used a stove to heat water.

"But to where?" Remus asked him.

"I was thinking to Italy." Ron grinned at Remus' raised eyebrow. "I couldn't decide, okay? I thought about going further, but...well, I'm taking it one step at a time."

"And your family?"

Ron waved his hand. "Of course Mum went ballistic but Dad was trying to be optimistic about it, kept telling me to send souvenirs. Ginny's jealous as hell, but she thinks she'll take a trip at the end of her apprenticeship. Now Mum thinks I'm putting things in her head."

Remus wisely did not comment on that, only saying, "You'll be fine, Ron, whatever you do."

"I hope so. Is...Snape here?"

Shaking his head, Remus poured the tea. "He'll be back this evening for supper."

"How come you don't have work?" Ron asked curiously. "You didn't lose it over...what happened, right?"

Remus glanced at the pile of paper that was hastily pushed to one side of the kitchen table and sighed. "No, unfortunately," he replied mournfully. "I'm still on leave but NOW decided they couldn't grant me that with European Werewolfe Association Conference coming up. Now I have to do everything here."

"It's easier, isn't it?"

Looking out the window, Remus shrugged and replied softly, "It gets lonely sometimes, but we're coping."

"So Snape isn't living in Hogwarts," Ron mused. "I'm surprised McGonagall didn't raise a fuss."

"They talked about it, then compromised, I suppose." Remus gave a smile. "I'm just glad he's happy."

Ron gave him a look. "Remus..." He sighed. "Look, I don't know anything about that greasy—I mean, Snape and you, but..." He paused, then blurted out, "You're not all that different from Snape. You're never someone anyone ever settles for."

Remus had to smile at the heartfelt statement and looked down at his tea. "I can't even tell you how different it must be for us, after years of hostility and settling on friendship. Sometimes, it felt like we had nothing else in the world after almost forty years of anger and hate that were most crucial for two wars. Make no mistake, I love Severus, but I still can't see how he can only want _this_ after everything he's gone through. He has to want _more."_

Ron frowned, then said in confusion, "I don't get it. Do you also look at him and wish you have more?"

And Remus stared at Ron for a long time that the younger man asked him if he was fine.

* * *

  
When they cleared the dinner dishes and restored the papers for their work, Remus asked, "Did you just settle for me?"

There was a pause; the Potions Master sat staring at the students' essays for a long time, not meeting his gaze while Remus waited for an answer. Finally, Severus spoke in a low voice: "I would have thought it was _you_ who was settling."

"That's not an answer." The table between them felt like something that should disappear, but Remus settled for reaching for Severus' hand instead. "I made it clear before, when I told you I'm in love with you...that I've wanted you for a long time."

"You know very well how 'love' and 'want' can be different..." Severus started.

Remus interrupted, "I love you. I want you. I can make you happy, but I wish you'd tell me _how."_ His fingers found Severus' digits, nails scraping over the skin. It made him feel he was clutching on to life. "I can live without you, and I know you can live without me too. It will probably even be easier if we do—I just don't _want_ to. I'm selfish, but I want to be with you." When Severus didn't reply, he went on softly, "You don't have to keep punishing yourself, Severus. The war is over."

A breath escaped from Severus and it took Remus some time to realise that his lover was chuckling to keep from lashing out. "Do _you_ think you're my punishment?"

"Am I?"

Another silence, then he felt Severus' fingers grasping his arm, hard, as if unwilling to let go. He closed his eyes, thinking it would be better to hear it in the darkness.

Severus said softly, "The morning of my fourteenth birthday, I didn't feel a day older than thirteen. I was out in the courtyard because it was snowing. I knew you would be out there so early to catch them." Remus' breath stilled at the gruff fondness in his lover's voice. "And you were. From behind the arched walls, I watched you in your pyjamas, with your arms held out. It felt like a gift—something you would give to me that would have to last. I promised I wouldn't ask for anything more. That would be enough." The fingers on his arms loosened their grasp, yet their touch burned through the fabric of Remus' shirt. "Everything since then has been an indulgence."

The breath Remus did not know he was holding escaped quickly and he opened his eyes to see Severus watching him closely. "I had to ask," he said honestly. "It was always at the back of my mind, but I didn't want to mention them."

He didn't have to explain why, perhaps Severus already knew because he only replied, "Then why now?"

"Because..." Remus bit his lip. _You've given up so much of yourself for everyone else—why wouldn't you do the same to appease me?_ Ron's and Nymphadora's words had burned in his mind. Even though it had been brief, there had been doubt. That small mistrust put every miniscule action to question: Severu's hesitant words of endearment, the scathing way he agreed to move in with Remus, the steady refusal of help of any kind.

But now—he should have known to simply _ask._ The war was over, and even if they got hurt, Remus knew they would still survive. Those words shouldn't have had a tremendous effect...because they didn't know Severus like he did. They hadn't held this man while he had nightmares even three years after the war. They hadn't seen him with his face flushed and shy beneath Remus, tentatively touching every skin he could reach even after making love. They hadn't seen how he still hesitated to trace Dumbledore's tombstone, as if he was still unforgiven.

"Remus." Severus' voice pierced through his thoughts.

Realising he still hadn't answered the question, Remus' hold on Severus' hand tightened and he watched as the emotions in Severus' face surfaced: comfort, contentedness, and probably even happiness.

He thought he must be lucky to have had this chance to set everything right, despite everything going wrong.

He told Severus truthfully, "I wanted to know from you if you thought what we have is actually worth saving."

Severus asked, "And what are you thinking now?"

Remus heard the curiosity in his lover's voice. It made him grin as he replied teasingly, "That I love listening to your voice."

 _There's nothing to lose in loving,_ Remus thought to himself, finally feeling content, _when the memories you can make are the ones you'll always remember._

Severus smiled.

 **fin**


End file.
